I stopped going to church a while ago. My grandma continued going the whole time. She sat with friends, of which she had many who were regulars.
Our church congregation consists of about 2000 members, but comparison is not my intention here. Just letting you know that even in a congregation that big, many of us are/were very close.
I haven't really talked to my fellow volunteers, friends, attendees, mentors and elders. I knew sooo many people. I still do. But they don't know me anymore.
Over these past few months I have relapsed hard. I haven't tried self-harming, which I did for years a long time ago. I was tempted beyond measure, but that is something I vowed to never do again. I can't afford another trip to the hospital. I am so scared of facilities. After my first suicide attempt, one in which my previous memories were wiped clean, it felt like a prison. And I didn't even know why I was there. Then I went home for Christmas and spent the holiday being locked in my room because I wronged my family and deserved to be punished.
Then when I finally got my Ipad 2 back (I'm not old- I swear! ), I logged into my Facebook account to see that my whole family was blaming me for my grandfather's death- on the internet. As usual, they were loud and proud. He died the day after I attempted suicide. I was the only local family member who still talked to him.
Not to mention that my mother told me about his death while I was in the hospital after my suicide attempt. I didn't know who he was or what she was talking about. The whole stay there, aside from the seemingly never ending loneliness and prison feel, is gone and disappeared the moment I got home.
But my grandma said that when the hospital gave me a worksheet to fill out with memories and things about my grandfather, well I wrote about my great aunt who died years before. I was really super close to her. Beyond close.
The first word that came out of my mouth when I woke up was "Grammie", not mommy or mom, but Grammie. Because my grandma was always there and always cared. My mom and her boyfriend and my mom's whole family were abusive. I was the outcast my whole life. It doesn't matter, though. I live with my grandma now and she has always loved me unconditionally. She is a true Christian. A Proverbs 31 woman, if you will.
And after I saw my Grammie's face, well I asked for hose nose. He is the purple elephant that my great aunt bought me when I was a toddler. I was 16 when I attempted suicide. But hose nose went through the entire hospital stay with me. Just like he went through my entire life with me. And right now, as I am typing this, he is sitting on a ledge above my window in the corner of my room, the first thing you see when you enter my space. Because he is watching over me. My Aunt is watching over me. She always has. And she always will.
Later I realizes, or remembered rather, that I had an NDE. And I visited my great Aunt.
Well where I am going with this is that I attempted suicide again last week. No one but me knows. And guess what?
That night I had a vivid dream of my Aunt. I heard her voice, she was shining like in my NDE. And she was smiling at me hugging me. And once again I didn't want to let go. But I had to.
And that was the point of this unnecessarily long entry.
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